Fate and Destiny
by cjbenny
Summary: A lonely prince. A cheeky yet adorable sorcerer. A snarky lady who adores archery. An innocent girl with a talent for smithing. An overprotective hunk who looks conspicuously Latin. A lovable drunkard. A mad king. Dragons, necromancers, thieves, and assassins. Stupid prophecies. Sibling rivalries. Civil and holy wars. A Camelot located in the tropics? Oh and slash. Lots of slash.
1. Prologue

**Hello all!**

**This is based on a story that I had lurking in the dark dark recesses of my hard drive. It's something that was influenced by every JRPG known to man (à la Final Fantasy, Grandia, Suikoden), not to mention a slew of literary epics ranging from Potter to LOTR. I love Merlin and have been reading fanfics for awhile, so I figured that it was perfectly compatible to meld with my own tale. Fate and Destiny was the original title and I'm keeping it.**

**F&D will keep the core characters from the show, along with many of my own original characters added into the mix. Just to set a few things up that are different from the shows lore; Arthur will have a big brother named Cedric, Merlin comes to Camelot willingly with a few cohorts/best friends (of which Morgana and Lancelot are included), and as I said in the summary, this Camelot is set in a fictional region that I would compare to the tropics. Places like Polynesia or the Caribbean. Why? Well, thank the Kingdom Hearts intro because I just love the idea of a story that's set in the middle of an ocean.**

**Basically the plot will revolve around three major arcs. Arthur and Merlin's meeting and courtship, serialized portions chronicling their various adventures, and the climax with is essentially a battle for the throne. It'll span around a decade's worth of time, from their teenage years to adulthood. I apologize for this enormous amount of exposition but my original story had one hell of a world I'd already set up for it, so I needed to get this out there.**

* * *

Of all the places to choose as refuge, it happened to be the filthiest rathole in the entire kingdom. A squalid pub filled with nothing but drunks and vagrants who despised everything about the world.

"By the Gods." The stench that collided with her nostrils was so mind-numbingly powerful that Elena almost missed the aroma of a rotting corpse. It was a potent mixture of ale, piss, and distinct form of sweat that no human had any reason to possess.

It took longer than it should have for her vision to adjust, the poorly placed lanterns scattered about around the room didn't help. With one hand clasped over her nose, Elena continued further inside, scanning the entire room for her target. Soon enough, she noticed someone who fit the profile perfectly. He was seated at a table at the corner of the room, mouth seemingly glued to the edge of a mug. Her approach was inconspicuous enough that he didn't notice her, then again, he looked drunk enough to be comatose. She took the seat across from him, then pulled off her cloak and slung it behind her.

"Sir Gwaine?" He looked up, seemingly struggling to battle against the stupor.

"Well now." Dear lord, he smiled and it was nauseating. "How can I help you my lady?"

The stench of his breath could probably take down a bear, but Elena politely ignored it by inhaling through her mouth.

"By giving me information, if you have some."

That answer disappointed him because his attention quickly returned to the half-empty mug.

"My mind is a locked box, I never know what's inside unless someone's giving me incentive to look." As she expected.

"What do you want, another drink?"

He paused, scratched at that repulsive beard, then took another swig of ale.

"Still closed, though I might be able to pick the lock with a little...encouragement. What say you and I get a room—"

This was getting nowhere. Elena pulled out a small pouch from her pocket and placed it in front of the knight.

"Here's the key. Now open said box."

He lifted the bag and bounced it on his palm. The sound of jingling coins brought out a very happy chuckle, nothing like gold to stave off the appetite of a sex hungry male.

"I'm opening it now, what do you need to know?"

"I hear you were friends. Friends with a particular group of individuals."

"You must to be specific, I've encountered a great many people in my life, many of them quite particular in their own way."

"You know who I'm talking about, Arthur Pendragon and his allies." He didn't flinch at the name, instead a rather wistful grin came out.

"Ah, those guys. They were an interesting bunch."

"Well, I need information. On him and his so called Round Table."

Gwaine's face scrunched up, surprise that seemed far too genuine for her liking. "Is that what he calls it?"

"The knight, Lancelot and his mistress Guinevere. The mage called Merlin Emrys. Morgana le Faye, Percival, Elyan the White. I already have their names, but I must know more about them. What happened, where they are now. I need to understand how this entire mess started."

"This _mess_ started because of a mighty king who grew a little too paranoid." His fingers clenched around the handle of his drink, soon their tips had turned white.

He turned to her, looking more sober and serious by the second. "You don't work for him do you?"

Elena immediately shook her head. "My allegiance is to Lady Nimueh. If Cedric's genocide spreads into neighboring regions, a civil war will break out that could eradicate all of the kingdom. It is my duty to stop that from ever happening."

"And what's your plan, hmm? To stage a coup? It won't be anything that hasn't been thought up already."

"Whatever decision we make, it will require Prince Arthur's presence and input."

Gwaine sighed, eyes glazed over as he stared back into his ale. "He and that Circular Desk of his are gone, or at least separated. Been that way for a few years now. At the rate Cedric's pushing this grandiose plan of his, chances are you'll never reach all of them in time."

He finished the rest of his drink and let out a belch. "If that's your intention of course."

"A chance is better than nothing," she said with resolute confidence. He scoffed, then signaled the barkeep for another drink. Growing more impatient by the minute, Elena slammed a fist against the table. It didn't faze him, but she knew it would bolster her point.

"I'm willing to give you more money than you can ever imagine, allow you access to things you could only dream of. But I need your cooperation. We cannot let Camelot burn for the sadistic whims of that madman on the throne."

"Madness that was unfortunately hereditary. Although I'd gladly take old Uther any day."

"Will you help me?" She waited, for a response, for anything.

He sighed again. "What do you need?"

She couldn't hold back a relieved smile. "The truth."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE — I want to emphasize that this little prologue sets up the stage for the "third act" of my story, and that I won't return to it for a while. My version of a teaser trailer. The next chapter will focus on Arthur and Merlin, and how they meet. Sorry for those who might expect this to start off big. I like my stories to be slow burners that all culminate with a big ol explosion. Any critiques or reviews will be much appreciated!**


	2. Boy Meets Prince

**This is the true start of the story. Enjoy.**

* * *

Trumpets. Horns. Even bloody bugles. Arthur could only watch as an entire orchestra assembled at the gates, just to announce their return. What a way to misuse one of the few forms of entertainment in the city that didn't involve the flinging of bodily fluids or decapitation of criminals. He maneuvered his horse past the noisome symphony, nearly trampling over a flautist in the process, before easing to a slow trot when the castle came to view. He stopped just outside the outskirts of the slums, then jumped off his steed for an impromptu stretch.

An obvious mistake because along with the sound of hooves clopping behind him, there was also that snooty sigh that only one person could make so irritating. His elder brother cut ahead of him on horseback, pious glare and all.

"Dare I ask little brother, why you are stopping in the middle of the city?"

"It's such a lovely day, I felt like a walk was in order. Besides, Llamrei looked tired," Arthur said stroking his horse's mane.

"You have that steed for a reason."

"Your point being?"

Cedric sighed once again, not trying very hard to mask it. "I hope that even in that infantile brain of yours, you realize that your actions not only reflect on me and father, but all of Camelot as well."

Arthur ignored him and continued towards the slums. "As much as I'd love to further this rather illuminating heart to heart, I actually have to meet with someone."

"And who would that be? The smithy's daughter?" Arthur stopped, more than tempted to knock the smug grin off Cedric's face. But of course, striking his elder brother—no matter how much of an eavesdropping bastard he was—would bring too many consequences. So instead, Arthur turned around and brushed it all off with a smile, knowing how much Cedric hated it when he played the part of innocent baby brother.

"Perhaps you should take a walk with me Cedric, your chainmail looks rather snug lately." Cedric rolled his eyes but said nothing. He turned towards their envoy of knights, beckoned them forward, and soon they were barreling back to the castle. Arthur whistled to a knight who lagged behind, ordering him to take Llamrei to the stables. When they all disappeared from view, Arthur finally took in the first moment of actual peace he had in over a week. Now time to see Gwen.

She of course called the slums home. As much as Arthur hated to admit it, Cedric had reason to be apprehensive of this area. Riding through on horseback felt dangerous enough just to do their customary hunting trips, but walking through the area on foot was a different story. For some reason, a day as beautiful as this seemed to negate his worries. Even though the people here carried a disdain for the monarchy, it was directed at the king more than anyone else. Still, Arthur's hand never strayed too far from the hilt of his sword.

The walk to Gwen's was thankfully calm, and the fact that no one bothered to recognize him was even better. The smithy's home was obviously modest, but sizable enough to stand out from the usual shacks in this area. Her father passed on a while back and she took on the family business, something remarkable for woman and this particular profession. She was outside, polishing what looked to be the breastplate of another fine piece of armor.

"Guinevere," he said aloud. The poor girl dropped everything she was working on and ran over to give him the obligatory curtsy. It made Arthur cringe.

"How many times have I said not to do that?"

"It's habit, sire."

"Arthur," he corrected. He took a seat on a nearby crate, then crossed his arms. "You know Wesley don't you?"

"Your manservant?"

"Yes. He and his wife are expecting a child. Being the generous and lovable prince that I am, I decided to relieve him of his duty."

"That's wonderful." Everything she said was still laced with timid apprehension. One would think that after knowing one another for ten years, there wouldn't be such a large gap in their friendship. But Gwen was anything if not consistent. Knowing that there wasn't much he could do about it, he continued on.

"For him yes, but now I'm in need of a new servant. I was wondering if you knew anyone who might be appropriate for the job."

She looked down, thinking to herself. Then she shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't really think of anyone."

"I assumed so. Well, I'd best be heading off before father sends out a search party for me." He was about to walk away until Gwen shouted for him to stop.

"Yes?"

"Gaius," she explained. "I spoke with him recently and he's apparently taking in a few new apprentices from the Lower Isles."

"Why does he need apprentices?"

"He didn't say." Strange, the Lower Isles were rural farming communities. Not exactly high pedigrees for Gaius to choose from. Arthur snapped from his thoughts when he noticed Gwen staring at him.

"Thank you Gwen." She curtsied once more, then returned to pick up the armor she had dropped.

"I hope my own new attire will be ready soon. I'd like to be at my best during the tournament next month," Arthur said while walking away.

"Within the week!" He nodded, gave her a wave, and continued on towards Gaius'.

Past the slums was Camelot's bustling center, called by most as the Market District. This was where Gaius lived and where he ran his medicinal shop. It didn't take too long to reach the apothecary's home, he was outside his shop sweeping away the rubbish on the street. It was clearly a struggle for him, not a surprise for a man in his twilight years. He really did need an apprentice or two.

Arthur let out a light cough to announce his presence.

"Ah, your highness. What a surprise." Gaius set the broom on the side of the wall and gave Arthur a bow.

"Just paying a visit to Camelot's most beloved doctor."

"I trust the hunt went well."

"Quite well Gaius. I managed to snag a rather large boar, on my own I might add." They walked inside his shop, a mystical place filled to the brim with potions and elixirs. Rainbow colored liquids, exotic aromas, it never ceased to amaze him.

"And was your brother as fortunate?"

"Not really. He was fumbling around trying to kill a fawn of all things." It was beyond amusing to watch, but he kept it to himself. Gaius was working on some brew that was boiling away in one of his cast iron pots.

"The problem was," Arthur continued, "he let loose an arrow that nearly ended up in one of our own men. He gave up after that."

"Well, your brother was always more fascinated with books than weaponry. I recall Uther trying to teach him sword fighting when he was just a child, the poor boy insisted on staying with me in the library." Ha, he wondered how Cedric would react to hearing this nostalgic memory. Arthur knew he had ammunition for a future fight.

"I assume there is a particular reason you wanted to see me sire?" Gaius said shaking him from his malicious trance.

"I was told by Gwen that you've gotten some new apprentices."

"Yes, four actually. They hail from one of the Lower Isles, children of several old friends. I promised to look after them as they settle into Camelot."

"Why have they come here? Not that I'm dismissing the idea of adding more citizens into this city of ours." He said that in his most Cedric and Uther imitative tone. Gaius smiled, still churning the contents of his pot.

"All they've known is village life sire. Perhaps they wished to see beyond the boundaries of those waters."

"Hmm. Well, my servant is having a child soon. I'm in need of a replacement."

"Is there a reason why you are searching for one yourself instead of—"

"Oh I know, we could just hire one. But if this person is to be a daily part of my life I want to give a personal evaluation before trying them out."

"Well…" He looked hesitant, not something Arthur wanted to see. He put a reassuring hand on the old man's shoulder.

"I trust your judgment Gaius, that's why I came here."

"Two of the lads might be of use. They're both young and quite healthy."

"Where are they now?"

"Exploring the city. They left quite early, so they should—" Gaius never got to finish.

"Gaius, we have a problem!" Both Arthur and Gaius turned to direction of the voice, it belonged to a young woman panting heavily at the front door. He'd never seen her before; long black hair and bright green eyes. She suddenly looked at Arthur before her jaw dropped.

"Is he…" Arthur passed an amused glance over to Gaius who was nervously gesturing for the girl to bow.

"Y-your majesty!" The girl bent a little too quickly and she nearly stumbled forward. Arthur was about to help her up, until a massive noise rattled from outside.

"Morgana, what's wrong?"

"Merlin and Lancelot chose to fight with a bunch of dimwitted pigs." Gaius immediately rushed out the door. Arthur and the girl Morgana followed.

The scene outside was amusingly chaotic. Four large men surrounded two smaller ones, Arthur assumed those were Gaius' new apprentices. One bore tanned skin and a thick set of hair. He was well-built and could easily hold his own in a fight, but the odds were likely too much even for him. The other was scrawnier, with cream colored flesh, raven hair, and eyes as blue as the sea.

One of the so called "pigs" threw a punch that collided with Blue Eyes' cheek. They both toppled into a nearby vendor's stand. Tanned Skin seemed to be taking on two pigs on his own, leaving one man without an opponent.

Arthur felt rather benevolent today. He rolled up his sleeves, cracked his knuckles, then tackled the remaining pig to the floor. It was a fairly easy fight. He elbowed the man's ribs, then dealt a crushing blow against his skull. He was out cold in less than a second. Arthur stood up, then ran to help Tanned Skin who was obviously overwhelmed. He tapped one of the pigs on the shoulder, grabbed the man's head and slammed it into a nearby building. Two down, two to go.

Tanned Skin continued his battle with the other pig, leaving Arthur to help Blue Eyes. Blue Eyes was still on the floor, trying to crawl away from his adversary. Arthur quietly pulled out his sword, then swung the handle against the pig's head. He fell with a small yelp. After turning around, Arthur noticed that Tanned Skin had already finished off his own opponent.

Arthur stared at the carnage and felt a familiar wave of pride rushing through his body. Not proper for a prince and yet it was more interesting than hunting could ever be.

"Well, that was fun—" He didn't even get to finish his sentence. Something struck his cheek and he crashed face first onto the floor.

"Sire!" Gaius shouted that. In a daze, Arthur looked up and saw the old man staring back at him, then he felt fingers examining his face. Gaius helped him up while staring ahead at something. Arthur dusted himself off, turned around and saw Blue Eyes standing before him. He looked petrified.

"Did you just punch me?" Arthur asked slowly inching forward towards Blue Eyes.

"I-I thought you were one of them." Arthur rubbed the spot where he was hit and winced. At least it wasn't broken.

"Oh no." The realization suddenly seemed to dawn on Blue Eyes. He stared back at Arthur with a face slowly contorting with panic. Soon the boy's legs started trembling.

"I-I didn't know—"

Arthur beckoned him to come forward. "Come here."

"Please, I never meant—"

"I said, come here." Blue Eyes paced forward until he was right before Arthur, his eyes focused solely on the floor.

"Look at me." Blue Eyes obeyed without delay. Goodness, those irises were like sapphires. For a moment, his anger almost dissipated. Key word was almost.

"What is your name?"

"M-Merlin Emrys."

"Well, _Mer_lin. You will report to the castle before the sun sets later this evening."

"I had no idea who you were—" Arthur cut him off with a wave of his palm.

"Inside the castle by sunset, is that clear?"

"Yes, your majesty." Arthur again touched the tender spot where _Mer_lin struck. Then he gazed directly into those cerulean orbs and smiled.

"Bring all your belongings. As of today, you are mine."


	3. Greener Pastures and Dragons?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of its characters, those lucky Brits do. The plot of this story is my own as are a few other original characters. Any similarities between it and other other work is purely coincidental.**

**Hello all, more Arthurian lore here. Galahad, lovingly nicknamed by the others as Gad, is going to be one of my ensemble characters, even though he's not featured in the actual show. I know according to legend he's Lancelot's illegitimate son, a member of the Round Table, yada yada yada, but like the series, I'm taking a few liberties to fit my own narrative. In my tale, he is a young (think mid-teens) mage just like sweet Merlin, he also happens to be Morgana's little brother. I'll be adding characters who might be in Arthurian lore but not in the series and I'll point it out when I do. Thanks a bunch and enjoy.**

* * *

This couldn't be happening. It had to be a bad dream or at the very least, an experimental spell gone wrong. There was no possible way he could have been stupid enough to have punched the prince of Camelot in the face. Yet here he was, standing in the middle of a crowded street, watching that same prince walking away with a sadistic smirk on his face. Merlin wanted nothing more than to crawl into the nearest hole and die without anyone noticing.

He turned around hoping someone would be there to console him, only to notice Galahad standing over one of the unconscious thug's bodies, prodding it curiously with a stick. Lancelot on the other hand was leaning against a wall, wiping away the dry blood on his face and hands. Finally there was Morgana, who simply stood there, examining her nails under the sunlight. Nice to see his friends were so concerned.

"All right, everyone inside now," Gaius ordered. The other three stopped everything they were doing and headed back inside the shop. Merlin didn't move though, hard as he tried, there was a disconnect between his mind and body. His legs may as well have been imbedded into the ground.

"Merlin," Gaius said with a sympathetic sigh.

"This is bad isn't it?"

"Considering your head still lies atop your shoulders, I would say it isn't as bad as it could be." After Gaius gave a gentle but coaxing tug on his arm, Merlin returned to the shop as well.

Gaius shut the door behind him. "Why did you act so rashly?"

"I thought there was still a fight going on. How did I know the prince would jump in?" Merlin murmured under his breath.

"Hence my use of the word rash."

"Why did you get into a scrap with those men anyway?"

"They called us dirt dwellers." Lancelot said ahead of Merlin. It was of the many insults given to people from the Lower Isles. Even at the time, Merlin knew he should have walked away. To find the same inner restraint Lancelot carried so effortlessly, but the fact that a bunch of grimy ogres were calling _them_ filthy, he lost all control.

"If you let every insult and argument end with a fistfight, you won't make it to my age." Merlin opened his mouth to reply, before closing it and taking a seat on a nearby chair. He knew he was in the wrong for all of this, there was no point in trying to defend his actions.

"Listen, Arthur is a good man. A forgiving man." If Gaius meant for that to comfort him, it didn't.

"What did he mean by mine?" Gad asked, thankfully before Merlin was forced to bring it up. Replaying those words in his head sent a chill down his spine.

"His previous servant is going to have a child and Arthur allowed him an early retirement. He came here searching for a new one. I was going to suggest you, but apparently his highness has decided Merlin would be a more suitable candidate," Gaius explained.

"I really stepped in it this time didn't I?" Merlin said with his eyes trained on the floor.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, where Lancelot was giving him one of those famous reassuring smiles of his.

"A manservant's duties are better than you would assume Merlin. You'll have your own lodging in the castle, food will never be a worry. Not only that, but you're essentially royal property unless it is decided otherwise, and that makes your head a bit more valuable than the average citizen," Gaius said.

Now he was a royal plaything, that made things so much better.

"This is all well and good, but what about his _you know what_?" Morgana said, of course referring to his powers. It was something he honestly didn't want to think about right now.

"Merlin," Gaius started. "You might have been able to practice magic in the Lower Isles without much attention, but this is the heart of Camelot. Uther carries a distaste for magic that extends farther than it should. You mustn't risk it."

"That goes for you too," Gaius said turning to Gad, who gave him an irritated roll of the eyes.

"All I can do is make shadow animals, it's not like I could take over the world with it."

"That's beside the point. I've seen the king's paranoia take over all rationality. I've seen innocent or otherwise harmless people slaughtered simply because of who they were. The purge going on throughout the kingdom is proof that he will not let it go. Your parents sent you all here to—"

"Hey, Lancelot and I aren't mages," Morgana added quickly.

Gaius ignored her, his attention still on Merlin and Gad. "And I gave them my word that I would keep you all safe. But you must practice caution and not let carelessness take hold."

"I will let Hunith know what happened—"

Merlin cut him off. "Please don't."

"I must." He pointed to the pile of items they had all taken from Ealdor. "Now get your things ready. Punctuality is one of many things you must remember as an employee of the royal family. Obey it, lest you risk going to the stocks."

Morgana chuckled. "Oh that'll be a sight, Merlin with his rump up for all of us to see."

"Would it really hurt that demonic soul of yours to show some compassion?" Merlin said in a tone laced with venom. But of course, it didn't faze her at all. Instead, the shine in her eyes grew brighter.

"You punched the prince of Camelot in the face, _after_ he decided to help you. All during a fight which _you_ started. I mean, let's be honest here, you're lucky that this is your punishment. I'm fairly sure if you did the same to the king, you'd be dead by now." Even at her condescending worst, Morgana always had a point. Normally his pride would compel him to argue, but instead Merlin slumped further into his seat and gave out a pitiful moan.

"How long will this last?"

"As long as Arthur decides."

"How long did he have his last servant?"

"Around two years." Merlin sat up, almost excited to hear that time frame.

"That's it?"

"The servant he himself replaced, died during one of the prince's hunting trips."

"How did he die?" Lancelot asked in horror.

"Eaten by a crocodile." Wonderful. He now had two options on how to get out of this predicament. Impregnate someone or get eaten by a reptile.

xxx

Saying goodbye to the others was harder than he thought. By the time he was waving them farewell, Merlin found himself struggling to stay sane. He couldn't believe that with one idiotic act, he was now sentenced to a fate he never asked for.

"Happy thoughts, think happy thoughts Merlin," he said out loud to himself. Well, at least getting lost wasn't a factor. The castle of Camelot loomed over the entire city, its ivory towers visible from nearly every corner of the mainland. Right now, with the sunset just dipping beneath the horizon, it painted the castle with pastel colors befitting a painting. It had the finest shades of lavender and pink that immediately brought back images of his mother's garden in Ealdor.

The sudden image of her made his stomach churn and soon he was back in self-pity mode. What in the world would she think of his actions? He imagined it would straddle that fine line between rage and disappointment. Of course she would play it off with an optimistic light, something he needed more than anything right now.

He pushed aside the thoughts when he reached the stone bridge leading up to the castle. Just beyond it was a gatehouse garrisoned with dozens of armed men, presumably knights. Two of them were standing at the entrance, faces about as expressive as a statue's. It's doors were open, so he assumed he could just walk through. All he took was one step before both knights blocked the entrance with their inordinately large swords.

"State your business," the one on the right said.

"I said state your business," he repeated in a louder voice.

Merlin felt like he would delve into a longwinded and more than likely futile explanation, until a frail man entered his view and tapped the knight on the shoulder.

"The prince asked him to come here."

"Really? And I should just take your word for that?" The knight said while facing him.

"If you want to explain to his highness why this subject is late, be my guest. I'll just inform you now that he is sparring and will not be in a good mood should he learn that you willingly decided to disobey his orders." The knight grunted, before motioning Merlin to walk forward. He did without hesitation. The thin man who rescued him was dressed in a tattered brown tunic coated with a fair amount of filth. His auburn hair reached to his neck, and a light beard was forming around his jawline. This must have been the previous servant Gaius had mentioned.

"Name's Wesley. If you'll follow me." They both walked along a cobblestone path that snaked its way along the castle's courtyard. A massive courtyard filled with gardens, statues, and a fountain that was larger than his home back in Ealdor.

"So…" Wesley said breaking Merlin's focus. "Is there a reason why the prince came back here with a swollen jaw and blood on his clothing?"

Merlin paled. He could have explained, but even plotting the explanation in his head sounded wrong. So Merlin resorted to his fallback answer whenever an uncomfortable question popped up. "It's a long story."

Wesley stopped and faced Merlin, if felt like he was being studied. "Is that right?"

They stood there, staring at one another for one seemed like minutes. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, Wesley continued on. "Let's keep going, I've still got a lot to show you."

If the exterior of the castle was the embodiment of bare beauty, everything inside was the garish spectacle Merlin had expected out of a monarch's home. Extravagance saturated everything from the silk drapery adorning the walls to the rugs made of exotic animals. Chandeliers dangled above him from the lofty ceiling, it's glass shimmering like pristine diamonds. And this was just the opening hall. If there were ever a place that made him feel inadequate as a human being, it was this.

Wesley stopped, then pointed at a stairway adorned with gold rails. "Just a quick tidbit, that leads to the royal family's quarters. You only go up there if you're serving the prince food, or if he requests your attendance. Understood?"

Merlin nodded. They continued walking through the floors of the castle, Merlin ogling every little trinket and painting he passed. He also encountered dozens of other servants going about their duties. Most were his own age, he wasn't sure if that knowledge comforted or disgusted him. Maybe he could make friends, but considering that most of them weren't here willingly, there wouldn't exactly be a lot they could talk about.

Wesley led him through corridor upon corridor, showing him where the kitchens and toilets and laundry rooms were located. Merlin almost wished he had made taken some notes.

"I will give you one piece of advice that is the most important thing you will ever need to know." Wesley said. "You must commit everything to memory. Remember the layout of the castle and city, remember the simple and daily tasks given to you so that it becomes second nature, remember names and faces so you needn't ask unnecessary questions.

"There are many things that you will have to do for him. You will bring him breakfast in the morning, wake him should he request it. When he leaves his room, it is your duty to clean and tidy up before he returns. He might ask you to polish his armor, get a bath ready, deal and transfer messages, fetch his horse, and so forth."

Wesley looked back at Merlin, "You getting all this?"

"Yes." He continued to state Merlin's future duties, until his brain felt like it had been filled with lead. Memorizing proved more than difficult after they entered the seventh corridor on the...he couldn't really remember. This place may as well have been a labyrinth for the blind.

"Where are we going?"

"To my room. Well, your room now. Is that all you have?" He asked pointing to the bag Merlin had slung behind his back.

"I'm from a village, we don't have much there."

"Relax, I know that life better than most. My father was from the Lower Isles." They made one final turn before standing outside a wooden door.

"This is it." Wesley allowed Merlin to step in first. What greeted him was...well, nothing. No decor or furnishings. Just a bed with dingy sheets, a worn almost rotting desk with matching chair, and a single window. All the place needed was metal bars and it could have been a prison cell. Merlin set down his belongings, then took a seat on the chair.

"I know it isn't much, but it is your home now." Wesley said, giving Merlin a somewhat comforting smile.

"So, before I go. Any questions?"

"Not really."

"How about you tell me that long story, because as his former servant, I think I should have an idea of what happened."

Merlin scratched at the stubble he hadn't yet shaved. "I did something stupid and he was caught in the crossfire. Not much more I can add."

"Knowing him, he jumped into it willingly." That one sentence made Merlin both amused and uncomfortable. It's obvious that Wesley cared a lot for the prince, and that they had a somewhat close relationship. He could only wonder if he could attain any position like that in the future.

Wesley sighed. "Merlin right?"

"Yes."

"He didn't have anyone inspect you or your past. Why, I don't know and will not presume to know. It's a personal goal that my final duty is to make sure my replacement will do his best to serve the prince and royal family with the same respect I carried. Now you seem like a good lad, but for all I know, you could be a criminal or threat in the making. Will you be able to do this?"

"I punched him. I made a mistake and he granted me this second chance. I'm not foolish enough to test fate again." Wesley's glare eased, and soon he was laughing.

"Good enough for me. I should get going," he said walking back to the door.

"Wait," Merlin said suddenly. Wesley stopped and turned around.

"Yes?"

"How do you really feel about this job?"

"I understand you're worried, but he grows on you with time. Like wine or moldy cheese."

"That sounds encouraging."

"Arthur is a good man. A bit presumptuous and spoiled at times but he'd make a just king."

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "Isn't Cedric first in line?"

"If I were given a choice between having a scholar or soldier as my leader, I'd just as soon go for the one who could lead us through battle. Bah, that's just me though." Just as he finished, eight church bells rang across the city. Night had finally settled in.

"Ah, dinner time. Make your way to the kitchen and bring it to Arthur's room. You remember where it is right?"

"Yes, thanks." When Wesley left, Merlin exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. This was going to be a very long night. He made his way back to the kitchen, which was easy enough to find. All he needed to do was follow the aroma of roasting pork and other delicious foods. The scents only reminded him that he hadn't yet eaten since morning. Soon as he entered, a meal was ready on an ornate silver tray. One of the cooks greeted him.

"What's your name love?" She had a heavy accent, Western Isles.

"Merlin."

"You adjusting all right?"

"Trying."

"It'll pass in time." That seemed to be everyone's thoughts on servitude. All Merlin wanted to know was how much time it would take for him to ever feel comfortable.

"You'd best be off then, the prince gets quite a bit moody when he hasn't had dinner yet." Merlin quickly grabbed the tray and headed up the—as he would call it now—royal stairs. A few guards stopped him, but it was clear that his position had a bit of leeway in this particular area of the castle. It did give him a rather satisfied feeling. One guard pointed him to the prince's room, which had a door adorned with a gold and silver crest. Merlin took in a heavy breath, then knocked. The prince opened it and greeted him with a light smile.

"Ah. Good to see you're working hard already Marlin."

"It's Merlin sire."

"Right."

"Your food."

"Set it down on the table." Merlin complied, trying his best not to make eye contact and hoping the prince wouldn't notice.

"I don't bite you know. You look like someone just murdered your dog."

"Just nervous."

"About earlier," Arthur said knowingly.

"Yes. I want to apologize, I shouldn't have—"

"You will repay me by doing as your asked. I'm sure Wesley informed you of your duties?" Merlin nodded, but said nothing.

"Get yourself adjusted, I understand that moving from a village to the city and then to the royal castle is overwhelming. But in the morning, I have a meeting and need to be woken up at daybreak. I also expect to have my breakfast ready. Is that clear?"

"Yes sire." To his complete bewilderment, the prince reached out and touched his cheek. The spot where the thug hit him earlier.

"Hmm, matching wounds," Arthur said rubbing his own bruised cheek.

"Though yours is cut. You should get that checked out, might get infected."

"I don't know any doctors around here sire."

"Gee, it's not as if Gaius wasn't the royal physician for thirty years."

"But he lives in the city."

"I hope there's a point in that sentence."

"Am…" He swallowed an empty breath, then continued. "Am I allowed to leave the castle?"

Arthur suddenly laughed, in a loud yet dulcet tone that made Merlin's hair stand on end. "You're not a prisoner Merlin. As long as you aren't doing something for me, you are free to do what you want."

"But—"

"I order you to get that cut treated in the morning. _After_ you wake me up and bring me my breakfast, okay?"

"Yes sire."

"And for heaven's sake, stop calling me that. I mean you can't be more than a year or two younger than I am."

"What do I call you then?" It came off more flippant than he intended, but that only seemed to amuse the prince further.

"For starters, I do have a name."

"I may be from a poor farming village, but even I know it wouldn't look right for a commoner to call his prince by name."

"Too bad then, that my word supersedes your moral code," the prince replied in an almost childlike argumentative tone.

Merlin felt tempted to roll his eyes but thankfully he didn't. "Do you need anything else...Arthur?"

"You're free to go." That was the best thing he heard all day. Merlin rushed to exit the room, until Arthur shouted for him to stop. _What now_? The prince entered an adjacent room, then came back with a jar in his hand. He held it out in front of Merlin.

"Here. It's a salve Gaius gave me for a wound I received while hunting." Merlin simply stared at the jar, was the prince really giving him medicine?

Arthur began tapping his foot. "You're not accustomed to kindness are you?"

"I'm not accustomed to having members of the royal family handing me gifts."

"That isn't a gift you dolt, there's enough in there to last me a year and I do expect it back when you're done with it."

"If I'm a dolt then—" Merlin bit back his tongue, any further and he'd likely spend the entire night in the stocks.

"What was that Merlin?" The prince asked with that smirk of his again.

"Nothing."

"Really? I could have sworn you were about to say something." _Don't take the bait_. Merlin inhaled, then shook his head side to side.

"Very well. You can head back now." With a light and almost playful nod to the door, Arthur motioned him outside. Merlin wasted no time to leave. Even while hurrying back to his room, he couldn't stop thinking how awkward that entire exchange was. His fingers were still gripping the jar Arthur had given him, to the point where the tips of his fingers were turning white. It took a while and a bit of directional aid from a young servant girl, but he did manage to make it back to his room without too much trouble. Now he could finally get some much needed rest. Unfortunately, what was waiting there took away any hope of that.

Gad was sitting on his bed, fiddling around with another one of his homemade toys. This one was a wooden spool attached to some twine.

"What are you doing here?" Merlin asked in an exhausted voice.

"I was bored, I thought you might need some company."

"Did anyone see you?" Merlin paced to the open window and stuck his head outside, relieved that the courtyard was blissfully empty.

"Relax, I was careful."

"How'd you know where I was?" Merlin asked while shutting the windowpane.

"Little sparrow told me." A wisp of black smoke materialized through the glass, and then passed directly through Merlin's chest. It landed on Gad's shoulder, chirping happily like it was real. It was just one of his many "pets". Summoners, always a fascinating power.

"Does anyone else know you're here?"

"No, Gaius is busy making something called a panacea, the other two are sleeping already." That was a relief. He could just imagine Morgana throttling him senseless if she found out what her brother was doing. They may not have been related by blood, but that didn't stop Gad from being the most important thing in the world to her.

"So, how did it go?" Gad asked inquisitively.

"Every morning I have to fetch his breakfast, then I…" Merlin ran down the list of things future duties and by the time he had finished, it felt like he'd recited the one of Gaius' medicinal textbooks verbatim. Even Gad looked like he was about to fall asleep. But it lightened the mood enough to ease Merlin's mind and right now, that's all he could ask for.

"This isn't so bad is it? I mean, it sure is roomier than Ealdor." Even if his old room and old home were tiny, they still had more character than this barren excuse for a room.

"Yeah," Merlin said with an exhausted sigh.

Gad was never a dull kid and Merlin could tell he noticed the tension in the air. He scooted closer and patted Merlin's back. "I'll come visit everyday."

Merlin gave Gad a playful nudge with his shoulder. "Nah, I don't think I'm allowed to have visitors."

"Well, be nice to the prince so we can visit without having to sneak around."

"I'll be nice if you promise me that you aren't going to use your powers."

Gad groaned. "Not you too."

"Promise me." Merlin repeated without yielding his tone. Almost immediately, the sparrow vanished in a cloud of smoke.

"Fine. I promise." Merlin ruffled Gad's mat of brown hair, knowing how much he hated that.

"Good, now go on back home. I don't need your sister barging in here and scolding me." With an agreeing nod, Gad headed back out the window and into the thick of night. Judging by how high the moon had gotten, it was probably past midnight. Merlin decided to leave his window open, in case anyone did decide to visit. Even if he told Gad otherwise, he'd love it if they came just to cheer him up.

Sleep didn't come easy, even with the fatigue this day had inflicted on him. A certain chill crept into the room but Merlin still kept the window open. He closed his eyes and willed himself to rest, that was until he heard something outside his door. Something akin to a whisper or breathing. Merlin opened his eyes, sat up and stared at the door.

"Hello?" No response. So he waited for another sound. Still nothing.

With his eyes still on the door, Merlin laid back down on the mattress. The sound returned, louder this time and he was positive that it was a voice. Merlin jumped off the bed and opened the door, only to find the hallway empty and silent. He stepped further out, searching for signs of life. But the whole damn area was dead.

"_Merlin_." Merlin spun around. He could've sworn someone just called his name.

"Hello?" He asked loudly. No response. This was getting eerie. Almost like a defense mechanism had been set off, Merlin tried to enter his room until the voice said something else that sent his heart pounding.

"_Dungeon_."

"Who's saying that?"

"_Dungeon_." The voice repeated again. After a bit of sleuthing, he realized where it had been coming from. A stairway that led down into pitch blackness. The voice had said dungeon. Considering the fact that he was on the first floor, such a thing would likely be located below.

"_Come down_." Yes, maybe it was foolish to listen to disembodied voices beckoning him into darkness. But he wanted nothing more than to rest and if dealing with this gave him that chance, he would take it. Plus, he had enough confidence in his magic to defend him if necessary. Merlin walked down the steps, cursing when he could't even see his hands in front of him. As his vision adjusted, he spotted a wooden torch hanging from the wall at the bottom of the steps. He quickly uttered the incantation for fire. The torch lit up instantly.

"_Keep going_."

"Who are you?"

"_You'll see soon enough_."

"How about you tell me why I'm wandering around the dark instead of sleeping upstairs?"

"_Amusing, the fear in you has vanished._"

"I don't know who you are but you're going to pay if this is some sort of trick."

The voice laughed, so powerfully that another warm breeze zipped past him. "_Young warlock, you are indeed more than I could have hoped for_."

Merlin stopped. "Wait, how do you know—"

"_I know many things. But to ease your mind, I will say nothing in regards to your true nature, provided you listen to me first._" Merlin could now add another emotion into this cocktail of mental anguish. This voice, whoever it belonged to, knows about his magic. But who was it?

"_Keep going if you want such a secret kept_." There was indeed a dungeon here, but it was empty. Rows of cells lined up each side, their bars rusted beyond repair. No, the voice didn't scare him anymore, but this place did. There seemed to be a sense of agony and torment clinging to the stale air here. Further progress was made impossible by a large metal gate.

"There's a gate here. It's locked."

"_Utter my next words against the lock. Aliese_."

"What?"

"_Utter aliese towards the lock_."

Merlin inched forward, then held his palm against the gate's lock. "Aliese."

Sure enough, the lock glowed with golden light before unlatching. He pulled the door back, cringing when the corroded metal screeched as it opened. This place obviously hadn't been used in a long while.

"_You're nearly there_."

"How are you down here if that gate is locked?"

"_That is under the presumption that I came here after it was locked_."

"Why can't you speak like a normal person?"

"_Never mind that. You're almost here_." Merlin continued going down the winding tunnel, which seemed to be delving deeper into the earth. Where it ended was...stunning. An enormous cavern that could literally swallow the castle whole.

"_I have been waiting for this moment for too long._" Something shifted in the foreground, a large shadow that looked like it was flying. Then out of nowhere, _it_ finally came into view. It's wings were flapping, its snout hissing steam, and its gold eyes penetrated even through the darkness. A dragon.

Okay, this was definitely not what he expected. His heart may as well have been a hammer striking repeatedly against his ribcage. Nervous excitement filled him, a silent awe that felt truly transcendent. The beast perched itself on a nearby pillar of stone and stared him down.

"You're a dragon."

"The very last of my kind. I called you down here because your inner turmoil was practically bleeding through the roof of this cave."

"How?"

"I can do many things Merlin Emrys, things beyond mortal comprehension. Do not be discouraged by your current predicament, it is meant to be." Wonderful, so it could read his mind as well?

"Quite easily." Merlin sighed, wondering if there was a way he could shield his thoughts.

"There isn't," the dragon replied.

"Could you stop doing that?"

"Only if you choose to stop thinking."

"Is there a reason why you called me down here?"

The dragon chuckled, before flying to a position even closer to him. He wouldn't lie if he said it was terrifying to stand next to a creature of this size.

"One of our many gifts, is knowledge on what lies ahead. Several paths branch out before me and they all lead to many places. The choices you made today placed yourself squarely within my sights. Call it fate, call it destiny, but you are meant to be here.

"But other paths, they lead to terrible things. And certain things, if not changed, will lead to Camelot's destruction."

Those words made his chest tighten. Merlin took a step closer. "Destruction?"

"_The fate of Camelot rests in Arthur's hands, and _his_ fate rests in yours._"

"And that means what exactly?"

"As I said, outcomes vary but all paths contain Arthur Pendragon."

"What about Cedric?"

"There are many things of which I am uncertain, but this is not one of them. Should Cedric Pendragon attain the throne, all I foresee is ruin."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Dragons do not joke." He couldn't have said that in a more serious tone.

"He's first in line for the throne. What are you suggesting, that someone stops him from becoming king?"

"I suggest nothing. I am only laying options before you, what direction you follow is on your own volition."

"For an all-knowing you creature you seem to be awful vague."

"When you have lived as long as I have, definite and permanent no longer carry the same meanings."

"What do I have to do with any of this?"

"The answer to that lies in another time. A time when I am no longer chained to this infernal chasm." Merlin's eyes drifted down and for the first time, he noticed a chain tied around the beast's leg.

"It is not of my concern," the dragon continued, "what happens to this kingdom. I only seek release before Uther's life meets its end."

"So you call me down here only to blackmail me?"

"Words are, as you'll learn boy, simply devices to get meaning across. What is blackmail to you is survival for me. Find a way to free me and you shall get the answers you seek."

"Don't you breathe fire? Why don't you just—"

"These chains were blessed by some of the most powerful mages alive. If you assume that I haven't tried to escape, then you are more naive than I had assumed."

"If I should free you, you need to tell me why are you here in the first place."

"Uther and his obsession with ending magic. He killed every last one of my kind and left me as an example and warning to others."

"Tell me what I need to do, then I'll think about freeing you."

"It does not work that way. I hold all the cards, as you humans say, and you are in no position to negotiate."

If he had any patience left, that drew the line. "How do I even know you're telling me the truth?"

"Choose not to. Ignore me for all I care, but when Camelot burns because of inaction, do not lay the blame on me."

Before Merlin could answer back, the dragon chuckled in that haughty tone yet again. "But I am not unkind. Before you return to your domestic duties, I offer you these parting words.

"You and Arthur both share a single path, for both your futures are entwined as far as my vision allows. The annihilation of either means the end of everything. You'd best ensure the safety of his royal highness."

"Wait, wait!" The dragon flew away, leaving Merlin alone in the darkness. This wasn't good.


	4. Sin and Punishment

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of its characters, those lucky Brits do. The plot of this story is my own as are a few other original characters. Any similarities between it and other other work is purely coincidental.**

** Hello all. Sorry for the lateness, I want to keep weekly updates during each Monday, but a funeral held me up this week.**

** Just so we're clear, I want to say a few things about the setting. Camelot's main city is basically the capitol of the kingdom. There are three adjacent areas of the continent which I call the Isles, and they are the territories of Camelot. Sort of like how Canada is a British Commonwealth, or how Puerto Rico is a U.S. territory. **

**Merlin is from the Lower Isles which are full of farms and harbors. The Western Isles are the cultural hub of the region, filled with large cities and a mix of cultures. Finally, the Eastern Isles are militaristic, mostly soldiers and commanders. Just a little tidbit that will hopefully make more sense later on in the story.**

** Also, a small character in the series has a larger role in mine, Tristan of Tristan and Isolde fame. In the series, he's in his mid-forties and is a smuggler. In Arthurian lore, he's a knight of the Round Table and nephew of a king. Here, he's a young lord and Arthur's good if not best friend. I like to imagine him as James Franco when he played the titular character in that 2006 film. Anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy!**

* * *

The bells of Tintagel Cathedral were daunting pieces of work, specifically built by his ancestors so they could be heard throughout Camelot. They held symbolic power that extended far beyond just the church and clergy. Right now, he didn't give a damn. Thundering tolls seeped inside his room, battering his eardrums with enough force that all he could think about were fanciful ways of punishing the local priesthood. By the time the tenth toll—wait a minute...

It couldn't be this late already. He opened his eyes, fully expecting an open window and sunlight ready to greet him. Instead all he saw were curtains that hadn't yet been drawn, and a nightstand bereft of his usual morning breakfast. It didn't take long for any lingering exhaustion to wear off, because anger quickly took its place.

"This is what I get for hiring a farmer's child." Arthur slid off his bed, not bothering to get dressed or even to groom himself. He made his way straight towards Wesley's old room, ignoring the surprised glances from countless servants wandering through the halls. When he reached the door, he slammed a fist against it three times. No answer. So he barged in, only to notice his servant still face down on the mattress.

"Hey, wake up!" He may as well have been shouting at a statue. With an exasperated grunt, Arthur grabbed the only chair in the room and dragged it right beside the bed. Just as he took a seat, Merlin shifted and faced him, his closed eyes still flittering underneath. The lazy bugger was still dreaming.

For a minuscule moment, all of Arthur's anger dissipated. He wanted nothing more than to teach Merlin a lesson, to make him understand that he was granted mercy yesterday. Yet, it was still his first day with this job and Arthur couldn't find it in his heart to act so drastically. So he sighed, sat back, and waited. Or rather, watched.

"Could probably hear halfway across the world with those things," Arthur said in a whisper while staring at Merlin's ears. For someone who came from the sun drenched Lower Isles, his skin was unusually pale. It fit him though. Along with his gaunt figure, it culminated in an almost elfin-like appearance. After a few minutes passed, it was clear that he wouldn't wake up without a little coercion. Arthur reached out and tapped those thin shoulders. No response.

So this time Arthur shook him with a forceful nudge. "Hey."

Again, nothing. He did every subtle thing one could do to rouse someone awake. Clapping his hands, whistling, even striking the bed with his feet. All Merlin did was shift positions so that he was now on his back.

With his patience all but evaporated, Arthur struck Merlin's arm but the bastard just groaned.

"In a bit mum." This was going nowhere. Arthur stood up and rubbed his palms together.

"If I'm your mum, then I have every reason to do this." Arthur wrapped his fingers around the bedsheets and tugged hard, expecting Merlin to slide and fall off the other side of the bed. Instead, the imbecile hung tight to the cloth and they ended up crashing into one another. They both toppled to the floor with Arthur's back colliding against stone.

"Ugh..." Arthur looked up, his breath hitching when he saw Merlin staring back at him. Well, sort of. His eyes were half-lidded, burdened with fatigue. They looked like two crescent moons that had been painted blue. Then those eyes flew open and the realization hit. Merlin leapt off and backed into the wall, chest heaving.

"What are you doing!" It was a reaction that honestly caught Arthur off guard. He stood up, dusted his back, then gave Merlin one of his patented royal glares. An expression that anyone would and should avoid.

"Well, let me enlighten you. I woke up this morning, surprised when twelve bells rang through my window. It was surprising because I specifically recall asking a certain servant of mine to wake me up early. Then I sat up expecting my usual meal awaiting me, which let's take a guess, wasn't there. But please, go ahead and test how much more leniency I'm willing to grant you."

Merlin's mouth opened but Arthur cut him off.

"I don't want to hear any excuses. What I expect for you to my follow orders, no questions asked."

"But—" Arthur cut him off again.

"I don't want to hear it." Merlin hung his head shamefully, finally allowing Arthur to continue.

"Now I have some new pieces of armor that need to be picked up at a smithy in the slums. The owner of the place is a woman named Guinevere. Tell her that you are my new servant and that I sent you. She'll know. You have until the next hour before I get really angry. Got it?"

"Yes." When Merlin tried to move past him, Arthur noticed his cheek even more swollen than before. Before Merlin could reach for the door, Arthur tugged him back by the collar of his shirt.

"Did you use the salve?" Arthur let go and Merlin faced him, a look of confusion on his face.

"You didn't did you?"

He noticed Merlin's eyes drifting to the desk. The jar was on top, still unopened. "I forgot."

Arthur reached out and pressed his finger against the noticeable gash, Merlin winced. "Wonderful, now it's worse than before. You didn't even clean it."

He swatted Arthur's hand away, a surprisingly insolent move that only a nonnative would dare. Arthur couldn't help but feel impressed by it.

"It's fine," Merlin said with a huff before trying to leave. Arthur grabbed his arm this time and tugged him towards the bed.

"Sit down."

"It's just a cut—"

"I...don't...care...now..._sit_."

Merlin seemed to restrain a scowl, before inching back to his bed and sitting along the edge. Arthur grabbed the jar which was the lone item atop the ramshackle desk, then he took a seat on the chair opposite Merlin. He scooped a bit of the salve with his index finger, then rubbed it against the swollen wound on Merlin's cheek.

He tried to move away, so Arthur held him down by the knee with his free hand. When he finished, he wiped the rest of the residue on his tunic. He caught Merlin's eye again, and it was an expression of fear and bewilderment.

"What?" Arthur asked. Merlin kept silent, his eyes focused on the wall behind him.

"Do I look like some hideous beast of the night?"

"Do you expect me to not be surprised when the prince is touching my face?"

"First of all, I'm not touching your face, I'm treating your cut. And second, I can do what I please because as you just said, I am the prince."

"You did not just roll your eyes at me."

"How many princes go into their servant's room and wake them up the way you did?"

"About the same number as servants who decide to disobey every order given to them."

"I—"

"I'm sorry. But you have to admit that I need a bit of a break considering everything just happened in the span of a day."

Arthur nodded. Knowing this was headed into uncomfortable territory, he decided to change the subject. "I don't touch people a lot."

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Just hear me out. I don't…I don't interact with other people, that's just one of the unfortunate aspects of being royal."

"And here I thought it was all castles and hegemony."

Arthur chuckled before leaning back on the chair. "Do you know why I decided to help you and your friend yesterday?"

Merlin shook his head.

"I thought—for just a moment mind you—that for someone to start a fight just after arriving in a new city, well they had to be interesting. And I'm honest when I say that you far exceeded my expectations.

"You seem to enjoy fighting back and being snarky. If I had simply hired any person off the streets of this city, they wouldn't even dream of such a thing. They would be…" Arthur looked up, trying to come up with the right word.

"Boring. But you, you offer me something that is a lot better than the monotony I deal with on a daily basis. Entertainment." Arthur stopped when Merlin's expression changed. Changed into something far more eerie. It was terror.

"What's wrong?"

"Ahem." Arthur closed his eyes. Only one person could make a cough sound so damn pompous.

"Father would like to see you." He didn't even look back. All he heard were Cedric's footfalls fading. Merlin on the other hand still looked petrified.

"Get my armor. _Now_." Merlin didn't say a word. Arthur watched the servant dash outside, nearly tripping over his own feet. An imbecile, but a very amusing one. Arthur smiled to himself, before standing up and getting this damn thing over with.

Father would no doubt be furious, but in all honesty, he felt relieved that he didn't have to interact with any of the lords. Sure, the men were hardworking leaders, but his respect for them was limited due to their less than amicable personalities. Lord Lot of the Southern Isles was a stubborn old mule, while Lord Mark of the East was a friendly but weak-willed leader. Arthur only dealt with them because their sons happened close friends. Well, they were his only real friends. He wondered if Tristan and Gwaine were here already.

The walk to the meeting room was quick enough. It was just past the throne room and king's quarters, and used as a former strategy area during past wars.

The king was siting behind his desk, overlooking a ledger or scroll of some sort. Cedric was a few feet away, seated and grinning with enough arrogance to shame any royal.

"Father." The king looked up at him for only a second, before returning to his work.

"You missed Lord Mark and Lord Lot's arrival."

"I apologize, I slept in later than I expected."

"New servant causing you trouble?" Cedric asked with a smirk. One minute. One minute alone was all he needed to wipe that high and mighty—

"New servant?" His father suddenly asked with interest.

Arthur sighed. Of course the man wouldn't remember. "Wesley retired, remember?"

"Who is Wesley?" The king asked with genuine confusion. The way his father led was with distance and detachment. For ruling a kingdom, those were essential qualities, but for a parent and friend, well, he never really had much friends as far as Arthur knew.

Cedric began tapping his long bony fingers on the arms of his chair. "I took care to look into that boy's record, since you were foolish enough to let him in here without so much as a second thought."

"Gaius trusts him, I have no reason not too."

Cedric rolled his eyes. "Gaius is nearing senility."

The king raised his hand, giving a warning gesture to Cedric. "Enough."

Then he faced Arthur again. "Who is this new servant?"

"Just some child of a farmer from the Lower Isles. Gaius knows him personally and even suggested him. And in case you care to know brother, I had Percival and Elyan scrounge around for a few bits of information before he moved in here." It was a complete and total lie, but they seemed to believe it.

"And?" Cedric asked.

"As I said, farmer's child. Moved here to find a career. I needed a new servant and offered him the job."

"Why did you do this personally?" The king asked with a suspicious glare.

"I…" Arthur stalled, and knew from the growing smile on Cedric's face that he was cornered.

"I was bored. I had nothing to do yesterday so I figured, it would have been better to choose whoever would be serving me." _Wonderful job Arthur, that sounded so convincing_.

"I'm sure you also aware then, that the village he hails from is noted as one of the more unruly places in the kingdom," Cedric said.

"He's thinner than some of the beggars and urchins out there, he couldn't hurt me if he tried."

Cedric scoffed. "And that bruise on your cheek is there why?"

Arthur opened his mouth, only to stop.

"I fell."

"On your face?" Cedric asked with a raised brow.

"It's not impossible, as you can attest so many times during our hunting trips."

Boy did that set him off. He stood up, and pointed at Arthur. "Maybe if you didn't venture blindly into the unknown each time you need your ego stroked, I wouldn't have to make sure you don't get killed."

"Gee, if I knew you cared so much I would've just stayed here so we could play chess all day."

"That's enough you two." The king said with an exasperated sigh. "I'm having another important discussion later today to plan the upcoming tournament, and if you've nothing to contribute, then you'd best leave now."

Cedric stood up and walked towards the exit. "Oh yes, let's go around and see who can kill the most fauna. That's obviously the greatest test of one's manhood."

The door shut with a vicious clang, but neither Arthur or the king flinched.

"I hope you're ready to win again?" Father asked, finally looking at him. His earlier disappointment seemed to have vanished, much to Arthur's relief.

"Always father."

"When you get the chance, I want to meet with this servant of yours myself. As much as your brother overanalyzes things, he seems concerned enough."

"He's not dangerous."

"Regardless, bring him here before we leave tomorrow." With a nod and light bow, Arthur left the room. Unfortunately his brother was waiting just outside the door.

"Need I ask what you were doing touching your male servant's face?"

"No," Arthur said pushing past him. Of course Cedric didn't relent, he kept up with Arthur's pace, not even trying to hide his interest.

"How did you really get that bruise?"

"I didn't know you cared."

"You're an immature and frankly bullheaded fool at times but you're still my brother." If that meant to be sympathetic, it sure didn't sound that way. Then again, Cedric could be giving a eulogy and still sound like a pious prick.

"I got into a fight."

"What a surprise."

"Look, the people down there don't like us. Whether it's justified or not doesn't matter, father's policies speak more volumes than either of us could."

Arthur stopped and faced Cedric, his arms crossed tightly. "You done?"

"Make sure Gwaine doesn't drink too much. I don't need to explain to his father why you brought him back with another tooth missing." Cedric disappeared past a corner, allowing Arthur to exhale all the heated air that was building up inside him. He returned to his room, only to find two familiar faces waiting inside.

"Tristan!" He said with an overexcited grin. The young soldier gave him the customary bow, but Arthur pulled him into an embrace. Polite and restrained as usual. Cedric may have been his sibling by familial ties, but Tristan was his true brother.

"How are you sire?"

"For the Almighty's sake, will you two wait until I leave the room before you commit the deed?" Gwaine said that, shortly after taking a sip from his omnipresent flask.

"I see the drunk sot has followed you again," Arthur said turning back to Tristan.

"How wonderful," Gwaine said with a belch, "our majesty has decided to become a comedian."

"One more crack and I'll lock you in a room with Percival, who I'm sure is more than happy to see you after last year's incident." One which Cedric had brought up earlier. Gwaine, being the drunkard that he was, decided to poke fun of Percival's imposing size. He ended up losing a tooth because of it.

"I need to change, do you mind waiting outside?" Both men nodded, before leaving the room. The tournament was one of the few times of the year he could genuinely feel excited for. He didn't have much people around that he could call friends, but Tristan and—to a lesser and more disgusting degree—Gwaine were his closest confidantes. After he had finished changing, he met the two and they continued back out the courtyard, where the midday sun was blazing even more brightly than usual.

"So, how are you?" Arthur asked clasping a hand on Tristan's shoulder.

"Good. Although patrolling the borders does get a bit tiring after a while."

"At least you aren't stuck floating in the middle of sea for months at a time," Gwaine said.

Arthur ignored him and returned his focus on Tristan. "I heard you were promoted to sergeant."

"Yes, I—"

"Gwaine, how are you? Oh your highness, how sweet of you to ask. Well, I had a rather eventful summer filled with women, war, and the finest whiskey this side of Camelot. Of course, I'd much rather know about Tristan and his glorious stories because he's obviously more interesting than the son of a bastard sailor—"

Arthur noticed his towering knight just a few meters away. He and Elyan were conversing as usual. He whistled, catching both men's attention.

"Percival!" Arthur called out loud.

The knight immediately came and gave the obligatory bow. "Sire?"

"You remember Gwaine don't you?"

Percival cracked his knuckles, then gave Gwaine a menacing smile. "Perfectly."

Gwaine backed away and raised his hands in mock surrender. "All right, I'll be quiet."

Arthur gave Percival a nod. "Never mind, carry on."

They caught up on a great many things, how the past year had gone. But of course Arthur returned to the subject that all of them were here for. "So, any news on the tournament?"

The hunting tournament. A massive weeklong engagement pitting man against beast. It was originally a competition held by the locals, but now an event that would show who was truly the most gifted blade in the land. Arthur had the distinct honor of winning four of the last five years. He intended on making this the sixth.

"I heard that they brought a new animal this year," Tristan said.

"Aye, a large cat hailing from the orient," Gwaine added.

Arthur raised his brow. "A cat?"

"From what some men told me, this is no ordinary cat. One even claimed that it is the size of three men. The people who sent it here call it a man eater."

"Yeah, that vicious boar last year really put up a struggle," Gwaine replied with a laugh.

Tristan continued, "Regardless, I think this year will be more difficult than the previous."

Arthur brushed it off. "Harder means better, I thought I've taught you both that already."

xxx

Dragons. Prophecies. Waking up with a half prince lying under him. He felt like he just wandered into some disjointed realm where nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Knowing his luck, everything would only get worse. Merlin shoved aside his negative thoughts, trying to focus on the job at hand.

Slums and smithy. He and recalled passing by a place that had numerous pieces of armor and weaponry on display. That had to be it. It was located in a dingy area of the slums, and luckily when he got there, he noticed a young woman working outside. She had long brown hair and dark skin, a trademark of the Western Isles. A female smithy, it was a strange but fascinating sight.

"Um, are you Guinevere?" He called out.

She was sharpening a rather long blade, but set it aside and faced him. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"I'm uh, here to pick up the prince's armor."

"Oh, right. Please follow me." She beckoned him inside.

The house was fairly large, in comparison to the other homes in the area and everything inside was kept to a respectable level of cleanliness. He had little doubt that a male smithy's home would be more filthy than this. They walked through two hallways before entering what could only be described as a large storage room. There were rows and stacks and piles of metalwork, some were weapons and chainmail, others were full suits of armor. Merlin paused when a very family head popped up between two helmets.

"Hey Gwen, where do you want me to put these?"

"Lancelot?" He turned around and looked at Merlin, eyes widened in elation.

"Merlin!" Lancelot ran around the room and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"I found a new job already. I help clean the things here."

"You're the new servant?" Guinevere asked.

"Yes," Merlin said with a nod.

He turned to Lancelot, "Where's Morgana?"

"Still looking for a job, this obviously isn't her first choice."

"And Gad?"

"He decided to stick with Gaius at the shop."

"Oh! I forgot. How'd it go with his highness?"

He considered telling Lancelot about the dragon encounter, and about all the other events that came after, but decided it would be best when there wasn't a third party listening. So he shortened it to as terse a statement he could think of. "I did a lot of stupid things."

Lancelot rolled his eyes, then chuckled. "What a surprise."

"Thank you for the support."

To his surprise, he felt Guinevere's hand on his shoulder. "He really is a nice man, you just have to take care to not get him on his bad side."

A bit late for that.

"He punched him," Lancelot said aloud. Merlin simply stared at him in disbelief.

"Was that really necessary?"

"You punched the prince?" Guinevere gasped.

Merlin retained his glare at Lancelot. "It is a very long story, let's just say that I got more than a just punishment."

His gaze returned to Guinevere who was still looking at him wide-eyed. "Do you think I could get his things now, before he gets angrier?"

She gave a slight nod before retreating to the back of the room. She came back with a large piece of armor, polished to the point that it looked like a mirror.

Merlin took it from her, shocked at its heft. How in the world could a human being remain mobile in this thing? "Are all armor this is heavy?"

"He requested it to be more resilient this year."

"This year?" Lancelot asked.

"The tournament. I always make him a new set of breastplates each year."

"What kind of tournament?"

"One for hunting. It's held between the three Isles and Camelot. People sign up to hunt an animal bred just for the occasion. The winner gets money, although the prince or one of the noblemen usually win. They end up donating the money to the church or charitable causes."

"How come we never heard of this?" Lancelot asked. Merlin shrugged, knowing full well that their kind weren't made to dabble in something as magnanimous sounding as _tournaments_.

"Most of the people who enter are—"

"Rich," Merlin finished.

"It's almost like a club," Guinevere added.

"What kind of animal do they hunt?" Lancelot was asking far too much about this. Merlin could al see where this was going, Lancelot had that very distinct twinkle in his eye.

"It changes," she explained, "chosen by random each year."

"How much money?"

"You're not thinking of joining?" Merlin asked with incredulity.

"I can hunt, so can you and Morgana. We've been doing it since childhood."

Guinevere stepped between them. "Wait a minute, you're not serious are you?"

"Trust me, he is," Merlin said.

"The people that do this train yearly, and ones who don't are either killed by the animal or nature."

"Can you craft me something, then just take it out of my pay?" The poor bastard wouldn't listen to reason now, and Merlin knew it.

"The nobles are usually in bands of two or three, while the prince always has his cadre of knights protecting him. Doing this alone is paramount to suicide."

"Please listen to her."

"Isn't this why we came here? To make something of ourselves."

"We came here for many reasons, hunting in a competition wasn't one of them. And personally, I've come to understand that my dreams are all but gone since yesterday."

"I'm doing it." Was it dangerous, yes. Was Lancelot being foolish, absolutely. But if there were any person Merlin would trust to do stupid foolish things _and_ still survive through it all unscathed, it would be Lancelot. So he just shrugged his shoulders, and decided not to argue with Lancelot.

Gwen on the other hand, looked livid. "You come here, begging me for a job, only to abandon it for this?"

"I'm not abandoning anything. If I win, you get a portion."

She threw her hands up. "I can't believe this."

"Has anyone not rich or influential won it before?"

"Not since I was a child. The prince and his friends have been dominating it for a long while now."

"He'll remember you."

"And?"

"If you win, and he finds out you were the one with me, then I'll have to deal with him."

"How is that my problem, you punched him."

Merlin had enough of hearing people say that. "Yeah, well he came into my room and I woke up with him half naked below me! You don't hear me complaining."

If their jaws dropped any lower, they would have been dragging against the floor.

In a state of panic, Merlin started backing away towards the exit.

"Bye." Running through the streets with armor that weighed as much as he did drained whatever ounce of energy he had in his system. The fact that his stomach growled during each step didn't help either. He was making his way back towards the castle, only for his conscience to kick in at the very last moment. With a groan, he made an abrupt decision to take a quick detour to Gaius'. Merlin knew he needed to inform him before Lancelot went through with his harebrained scheme. By the time he reached the shop, his lungs were in a state of near collapse. He laid the armor down on the floor and called out for the apothecary.

"Gaius?" The place was surprisingly silent, at least until Morgana popped into view. Of all the people to be here, it had to be her.

"He's not here—oh, it's you."

"Nice to see you too," he replied with the same disinterest.

She looked at him, then at the armor. "I hope you're not planning on jousting. You're far to slim to even lift the lance."

"It's for Arthur—" _Damn it_. Merlin inhaled, then started again.

"It's for the prince. He asked me to pick it up."

"What did you need to see Gaius for?" she asked in a childlike tone.

"Is Gad here?"

"No, he's with Gaius."

Merlin nodded, then turned around to make sure the door was shut. "I just talked to Lancelot and he's about to do something stupid."

"I think your actions yesterday eclipse anything that could be stupid."

"He could get killed," Merlin said, more insistent in his tone.

"Found another damsel in distress did he?"

"There's a hunting tournament coming up, he's thinking of joining." Morgana's expression didn't change one bit.

"And this is a problem why?"

"Gwen said—"

"Who's Gwen?"

"His new boss. Argh, that's not the point. This tournament supposedly has all the nobles and even the prince hunting in it."

"Why don't you just give me the point instead of babbling on? I swear, you never know how to use words properly—"

"The animals they're hunting have killed people before." She still seemed as detached as ever. Merlin ran a hand through his hair, then leaned on the nearby counter.

"The winner gets money." Morgana's eyes lit up like a parched man who just had his first taste of water.

"How much?"

"A lot."

"What do we hunt?" He knew she'd be interested.

"No one knows, it's random. The only reason I'm telling you this is at least if you two go, then Lancelot won't have to do this alone."

"How exactly does one sign up?"

"I'm sure he's already figured out a way."

"And he's at the smithy right now?" Merlin nodded.

"Hmm. Well, I'd best tend to this matter personally."

"And I need to get back to his royal highness," he said with disdain.

"By the way, how is Mr. Handsome?" Merlin cringed, not because of Morgana's words, but because he probably got more "intimate" with the prince this morning than most others.

"What?"

"Mr. Handsome?"

"I find him attractive, is that hard to believe?" Merlin just shook his head before picking up the armor. He bade Morgana farewell, then left the shop in a light jog and made his way back to the castle. It was an exhausting trek, and the prince was no doubt aware it would be. Punishment number one. To his relief, the prince was already walking about the courtyard, accompanied by two other men.

When he noticed Merlin, Arthur turned to his companions and seemingly dismissed them. With a flick of the head, he beckoned Merlin to follow him.

"Early, I'm impressed," he said with a smile. Merlin didn't know whether to hand the armor over or not, but considering how bad things went earlier, he decided to hold onto it until otherwise. They both reentered the castle, which still seemed like a mystical world to him. This was his home now and yet it was uncomfortable.

"I have a treat for you." Merlin did not like the way he said that.

"Huh?"

"While I was talking with my friends back there, I came up with an appropriate punishment for your mistakes earlier."

Arthur stopped and faced him. "You're coming with me to the tournament tomorrow."

"W-what?"

"If you worked for my brother and did what you did, you'd either spend a week in the dungeons or a week in the stocks. If you worked for my father, well let's just say you'd be beheaded already.

"Now ordinarily a few of my knights would be carrying the weapons and food supplies, but I figured you needed to do something to build up those pathetic excuses for arms."

"But I—"

"Merlin, I recall a conversation in which I said that you were not to ask questions if I gave you an order."

"You never said anything about me having to like it," Merlin mumbled to himself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Have you hunted before?"

"Just small game. Lancelot, the guy who was with me yesterday, he's more adept at killing things than I am."

"Well, you'll prove more useful than my brother then. The man can't even set up a snare without hurting himself."

"You don't seem to like him."

Arthur didn't reply, at least for a long pause. "He's my brother, but we live in separate worlds. He'd rather spend his days alone in a library, I'd rather spar with my knights."

Arthur looked at him. "Do you have any siblings?"

"No. It was just me and my mother."

"And she was okay with you moving here?"

"It was her suggestion. I never really had a problem with farm life." They didn't speak until they reached Arthur's room. The prince opened the door, then took the armor from Merlin's hands.

"Your punishment doesn't start until tomorrow and it will be painful, so take the rest of the day off." He was offering him a break before a punishment?

"Really?"

"I'm not all doom you know, I do have a heart but there are consequences that you must deal with." Merlin not knowing what else to do, just nodded.

"You have a lot of courage, doing what you did. So uh, good job," Arthur said. _Good job_?

Both of them stared at one another before Arthur coughed awkwardly. "Ahem, we leave at daybreak and I do expect you to do what should've been done earlier today."

"I will."

"Good, now go before I change my mind." Merlin bowed politely before backing out of the room. Just as the door shut, Merlin suddenly bumped into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry—" His stomach tightened painfully when he realized Cedric Pendragon was staring back at him.

"Ah, Merlin right?" He said it with a smile, but Merlin could see the a far more sinister emotion beneath it.

"Y-yes sire."

"Walk with me for a moment?" Merlin followed the elder prince down the corridor, his heart beating all the way.

"My brother seems fond of you. Is that your assessment?"

"I'm just his servant."

"Are you now? What qualifications do you have for this job?"

"I uh—"

"I have ears everywhere. I know you punched him, and as much as I can't help but feel a bit of satisfaction in that, he's still the prince. And as such...well, we can't have commoners striking royalty now can we?" Merlin knew that he had to give scripted answers or risk retribution.

"No," Merlin answered.

"I don't know why he's keeping you but then again he's always been rather...impulsive.

"As long as you do your job, then we won't have any problems. If you give me reason for concern though, understand that I know everything there is to know about you."

Merlin couldn't let that threat pass unanswered so he stupidly opened his mouth. "I doubt that sir."

Cedric just chuckled, it made his stomach churn. "Please, if you've any secrets to tell, let me know now."

Merlin kept quiet, knowing he was being baited into a trap.

"No? Well, I always love a good puzzle. Why have things given to you when you can earn it through a bit of work." They stopped, and for that Merlin was grateful. He just wanted to get away from this man. Far away.

"My brother has always been fond of taking in stray animals as pets, I suppose it makes him feel proud of himself. The problem was, some of those animals he brought home as a child would learn to bite back after they were coddled. Should I have the same concern?"

He clenched his fingers into a fist but still held back from doing anything. "No _sire_."

"Good. I'm sure we'll be seeing one another quite often. Until then." With a disgusting grin, he waved Merlin off and headed back to the royal quarters. Merlin breathed in, trying to calm himself. But those words cut through him in a way he didn't imagine possible. For some reason, the dragon made a lot more sense now. To think this man would one day be king, it made Merlin shudder.

By the time he was back in his room and on his bed, all the weariness and hunger had faded. But he closed his eyes and tried his best to sleep. He had three people to watch out for tomorrow and he had to help them all without magic.


	5. The Hunter Games

** I am so sad over the tragic news of Merlin ending its five-year run. But better to end things on a high note rather than jumping the shark like so many shows do. Anyway, back to the story. I hope you all enjoy.**

* * *

Nothing disruptive woke him up and to his utter relief, neither did a half naked prince. It was the trill of a bird, drifting past his ears like a gentle lullaby. Merlin rubbed his eyes and sat up, pleased to see a steady stream of sunlight trickling through the window. Just beyond it were the first gasps of the city waking up. For a moment, he felt like he could climb a mountain or swim across the ocean, a joy that faded when he remembered what was coming today. He was to accompany the prince to a deadly tournament, which Lancelot and Morgana decided to get themselves mixed up in. With a reluctant sigh, he slid his legs off the bed and stretched, wincing when most of his joints cracked.

He quickly changed, then headed towards the kitchen to fetch the prince his breakfast. The familiar scent of sizzling pork and eggs wafted past him, and his stomach voiced its opinion with a lowly growl. There was only one person working inside the sizable kitchen, and it was the same elderly woman he met before. She was stirring something in a pot and it smelled heavenly. He tapped the door with his knuckles to make his presence known.

She turned around, then smiled when she noticed him. "Oh, it's you again."

"I'm here to pick up the prince's food."

"I always leave it in that tray over there." She used her wooden spoon to point at the counter across from him.

"Oh, thank you."

"Didn't pick it up yesterday," she said focusing once again on her stew.

"Yeah, I got an earful for it," he replied while picking up Arthur's food.

"Have you eaten yet love?"

"Um, no."

"Take a seat, I'll make you some breakfast." He wanted nothing more than to say yes, but decided not to risk any more mistakes.

"Thank you, but I need to—"

"It won't take a minute. I could hear that stomach of yours grumbling even from the other room. Besides, that boy could sleep through a thunderstorm." With a defeated sigh, Merlin set the tray back down and took a seat at a table, watching as she prepared his meal.

"My name is Judith by the way." The moment he heard the meat sizzling, Merlin felt his tongue quiver in anticipation.

"Merlin," he responded.

"So where are you from dear?"

"The Lower Isles."

"Awfully long way from here. I came from the Western Isles myself, when I was just a child. I always thought this city was magical." She recounted memories with him, about her youth and how the city looked like nearly half a century ago. She told him that she came here before even Uther came to power. Merlin almost shuddered at her words, to think that she had been working in this same place and this same position for three generations, it terrified him beyond measure.

But once she set down a plate of the most exquisite food he could have imagined, the hunger took control of his body yet again. Strips of pork fried to golden perfection, a melange of vegetables seasoned with aromatic herbs, and some corn to finish it all off. This was a treat he couldn't even imagine back in Ealdor.

"There you go love, enjoy." Under normal circumstances, scarfing down food like this in front of another person would have been rude. But his stomach was in control now and it didn't take long before the plate was empty. He went for seconds and even thirds. Judith seemed particularly pleased at Merlin's enthusiasm for her food.

"Good?"

"Delicious, thank you."

"The servants usually have breaks at around noon, so if you're ever feeling a bit hungry, don't be afraid to come here okay?" He thanked her again before grabbing the prince's ornate tray of food, complete with a shimmering lid and matching silverware. When Merlin reached Arthur's room, it was clear that he wasn't up yet. He pushed through the door and placed the food on the nearby nightstand. Then he pulled back the curtains for the massive window and sunlight flooded the room. Merlin slowly stepped forward, marveling at the sight below him. The royal family unsurprisingly had the highest living space in the city, and looking at Camelot in its entirety was daunting.

Ealdor would easily fit in the castle's great hall alone and the castle was just a minuscule portion of the city. He watched the people going about their daily routines. Children were running outside, dogs were rolling around the streets, vendors were preparing their wares. It was like peeking into how a machine functioned.

After he had gotten his visual fill, Merlin looked over at the prince who was lying on his side. He seemed to be having a peaceful dream, enough that Merlin was reconsidering whether to wake him. But an order was an order and he would rather risk ire for following orders than to tick off the child of the king yet again.

He put a hand on Arthur's arm and slowly shook it.

"Mmm, what?"

"It's just past day break." Arthur rubbed his eyes and yawned. It took a bit for him to sit up, but when he did there was a light smile on his face when he noticed the food.

"Ah, breakfast. You're learning quickly."

"Fear of punishment tends to bring out the best in me, just ask my mother whenever I skimped on chores." Merlin felt a sense of pride swell within him when the prince let out a lighthearted chuckle.

"You being incompetent, I couldn't imagine such a thing."

"Will you be requiring anything else sire?"

"No. And I said to call me Arthur." Merlin nodded and was about to leave the room, but then Arthur called for him to stop.

"My father wants to talk to you." Merlin froze in place before turning around like his joints were welded together.

"What?"

"My father, the king, would like to speak to you." Arthur said casually before taking a bite of the fried egg. Soon he was feasting on everything like a famished dog.

"W-why does he need to talk to me?" Merlin asked in choppy syllables.

"He just wants to check on you, my annoying brother planted the idea." Merlin closed his eyes, Cedric was becoming a very large thorn in his a—

"Just do what I say and you'll be fine," Arthur said while gulping down the liquid in his mug.

"But, I'm just a servant."

"Again, Cedric thinks you could be a threat." Merlin tried to think of an excuse so he could get out of this but if it was a request from the king, he doubted that such a thing was even possible. When Arthur finished his meal, he set the tray back on the nightstand and stood off the bed, stretching his arms and legs.

"Fetch me my clothes in that dresser," Arthur said pointing across the room. Merlin, in a trancelike state, headed for the large wooden dresser the prince had been pointing at. He took out a layer of clothes that were ready made. When he turned around, he nearly screamed when he saw the prince naked before him.

"What's wrong? Never seen another man unadorned before?" Having been around Lancelot's effortlessly achieved physique all his life, that was nowhere true. Arthur had a similarly fit body, but Merlin made sure to focus on the wall behind him when he handed the clothes over.

"Will you calm down, it doesn't bite." Now he felt sick._ How can he be so casual while he's naked_? Merlin repeated the question in his head, only to realize that he'd not rather know the answer.

"Can I leave?"

"Now if you hadn't asked that, I probably would have asked you to. But now I think you should stay." Merlin tried to protest, but he couldn't even finish his thought because a deluge of dirty clothes landed on his face. He stifled out a curse as he pulled Arthur's tunic and—dear god—his trousers off. He rubbed his nose repeatedly, trying to get the scent of musk, sweat and something more primal off him. There were even hints of sandalwood. He unintentionally caught another glimpse of Arthur in all his naked glory, so he looked up to the ceiling to distract himself. It didn't work.

"Now father is usually reserved, the prim and proper type," Arthur continued, oblivious to Merlin's reactions. "As long as you don't do anything stupid, you'll be fine. Although in your case, everything seems to fall in line doesn't it?

Naked, tossing veiled insults, and doing it all with a smile. This was the man the dragon said should be king? And the only other option was a bitter sod who seemed to have a stick up his arse. What a wonderful future for Camelot.

"Also, don't compliment him, he usually sees through it. Did you get all that?"

Of course he didn't, but Merlin nodded. "Yes."

"All right, let's go," Arthur said as he finally put another pair of trousers on.

"Once we're finished talking with him, I need you to bring my things to the stables. The armor and sword, those satchels," he said pointed to the set of bags at the foot of the bed, "and of course drop by the storage room to get our supplies for the trip. I had my knights prepare it so everything would be ready to go."

They left the room and made their way to the king's quarters, Merlin's heart rate increasing with each footstep.

"Don't speak unless directed to and please look him in the eyes." Merlin had long forgotten the advice Arthur seemed to be rattling off for him. There was only one thing he would do, keep quiet and it seemed logical enough.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, look him in the eyes." Arthur stopped forcing Merlin to do the same.

"I mean that. From what I noticed, you tend to look—" Merlin's cheeks flushed when Arthur grabbed his chin and forced them to look at one another. "At the wall instead of the person."

Merlin pulled away. "Why do you keep touching me?"

Arthur started walking again but Merlin kept up, intent on getting an answer. The prince just chuckled. "I don't know, you remind me of a puppy I found when I was six. He had big ears and black fur and was stick thin when I found him."

Merlin pursed his lips together and sighed.

"See," Arthur said with an excited smile, "you even pout like him."

"I am not a dog," Merlin replied angrily. Cedric's words last night hurt enough, he didn't need to hear it again.

"You should be flattered, he was the sweetest little thing." Arthur took on a rather wistful expression.

"We called him Dumdum because he was the clumsiest animal in the world. Ran into doors and poles. And every time I'd pet his head, he'd roll on his back and bark for me to rub his belly."

"If you expect me to do that, I'd rather spend a night in the stocks."

"I'd advise you not to talk that way to the king, but then again it would be quite a show to see his reaction."

"Why would I be stupid enough to insult the—"

"You already punched the crown prince, who's to say you wouldn't?" Merlin grunted in annoyance, he'd never be able to get away from that moment. Especially when everyone kept bringing it up, every time they spoke with him. It didn't take long for them to reach the most ornately door he had seen thus far. Even the wood it was made from seemed more expensive than the others.

"You ready?" Arthur asked looking at him.

"No."

"Good." Arthur pushed him inside, without consent of course, and soon Merlin was literally half a room away from the king himself. He was seated at a desk, looking over something, but he stood up when he noticed both of the boys.

"Father, this is my new servant." Merlin let out a breath when he took in the sight. The king was not as frightening as he expected and that could only be a relief. The people in the Lower Isles knew about the royal family, but their knowledge was based mostly on rumors and hearsay. A particular one that had common consensus, was that the king was a brute of a man who had slain a hundred dragons. The stories he heard as a child exaggerated the legend even further, tales about Uther Pendragon facing off an entire army on his own, armed with only a worn down blade and a bottle of ale.

The man standing before him was nothing like he had imagined. He was clean shaven and aged, not so much that he looked frail, but the crease-lines and grey hair were clues enough. Yet he was tall, like his children and had a strong physique fitting for royalty. An ornate golden crown was on his head, but he was dressed in startlingly simple clothes. A brown tunic and beige trousers, no different from the normal attire of Camelot citizen.

"Your name boy?" Merlin followed Arthur's advice, to keep eye contact. The problem was, his throat felt like it had been stuffed with sand. The king was staring at him, his hazel green eyes cold as ice.

"Merlin Emrys your highness."

"Just sire will do."

"So, I was told that you're from the Lower Isles?"

Merlin swallowed an empty breath. "Yes."

"And how did you come to know Gaius?"

"He and my mother are old friends, that's all I really know. I recall him visiting us when I was a child."

"I was also told that my son sought your aid, is that true?" Merlin looked over to Arthur, who made a facial gesture for him to come up with an answer.

"He was looking for a new servant, Gaius said that I would be perfect since I was looking for a new job." That sounded...plausible. The king's glare eased, and soon he was smiling.

"Well, it's always a pleasure of mine to meet a new citizen. I hope you find this new life more than comfortable." Not the words he'd choose but Merlin nodded complacently.

"It is my honor sire."

"Is he accompanying you to the tournament?" Arthur nodded.

"The other lords and I will be arriving in Avalon tomorrow, we have matters to tend to for the time being so carry on the both of you."

Merlin felt Arthur's hand tugging him back out of the room, and when they had returned to the main corridor, he felt like he could breathe again. His first inhale pumped a blissful form of adrenaline in him.

"There, now that wasn't so hard was it?" Arthur said it with a far too playful grin.

"I feel like my heart is going to burst."

"He's just a man. A man with royal blood that stretches back countless centuries, but my point still stands. He's not some tyrannical despot ready to attack anyone who disagrees with him." Merlin wanted to make a point, how he wasn't the only one who had a negative view of the king, but he decided to keep his mouth shut.

"We need to get to Avalon before sundown. I'm going to fetch Tristan and Gwaine, so get my things and bring them to the stables. Am I clear?" Arthur said.

"Yes."

"Good. We'll be there shortly." Arthur disappeared down the hallway, while Merlin made his way back to the prince's room. He quickly fixed the bed and tidied up the area. Now that he was alone, he could truly appreciate what a prince's room was like. The room was exquisitely designed, its vaulted ceiling could rival a cathedral's for dramatic ambience. A window stretched along an entire wall and led to a balcony that offered a view of the entire city. Even the parapet running along edge of the balcony was made with what seemed to be marble.

Merlin picked up Arthur's heavy armor and sword, along with a few other items that were set aside in two large satchels. He took a quick peek inside and noticed a few simple items one would expect a hunter to use. Medicines, twine, a few jars of animal innards that seemed to be bait. The other bags had extra sets of clothing in them. He slung the bags over his shoulders, then made his way to the stables.

By the time he reached the stinky home of the horses, Arthur and his two friends were already there, getting their steeds ready. The prince motioned him to come forward..

"Took you long enough, what were you doing?" He asked Merlin with a stern glare. _Oh, I don't know, maybe I was busy lugging around this insanely heavy piece of scrap metal_. Of course he didn't say that, Merlin gave as innocent a face as he could, which amazingly worked because Arthur annoyance seemed to vanish.

Arthur shook his head dismissively, then turned to his two friends and continued their conversation. They were both lords, obvious because of the crests on their armor. Beneath their armor, both men were dressed in the finest of cloth, one carried the colors of red and black, the other blue and silver. Colors of the Lower and Eastern Isles respectively. One was bearded and quite tall, with long brown hair that almost covered his face. The other had curly black hair and a far more slim but no less regal figure.

The bearded man eyed Merlin from head to toe before turning to Arthur. "Who's the scrawny one?"

"My new servant."

"Wesley's gone?" The curly haired man asked.

"He's having a child, I let him retire," Arthur answered as he climbed onto his horse. Merlin looked around, noticing that there were no other people or horses around.

"Is it just us?"

"We're getting a head start, my knights will be leaving by noon." The two lords climbed on their horses. Merlin was not liking the probable outcome to all this. He never expected a horse of his own, but there wasn't even a wheelbarrow or cart in sight. There was however another pile of belongings that likely belonged to the lords.

"I have to carry all this on foot?" He asked aloud, catching the attention of all three men.

"I'm sorry, did I hear that correctly? Was an insubordinate actually questioning me after I specifically told him that he must do whatever I asked?" Merlin held back a sneer and lugged another pair of bags over his shoulder. Just from a logistical point of view, he had no idea on how he could feasibly carry all these items.

"You're making one man do the job of at least two knights and a horse?" The curly haired lord asked Arthur in dismay.

"He's being punished," the prince explained. "Besides, he's only doing it until we reach Avalon."

"That's still hours away."

With a sympathetic expression, the curly haired lord reached out towards Merlin. "Here, I can help—"

"Stop," Arthur said in a strict and commanding voice. The lord pulled his hand back.

Merlin looked up at the young lord, "I'm fine sir."

"Give me that," he repeated. Merlin glanced at Arthur who seemed to be losing his patience.

"If you interfere Tristan, I will—" Arthur tried to say, but Tristan jumped down from his horse, grabbed two of the bags from Merlin and hauled it over his shoulder.

Arthur sighed. "You chivalry knows no bounds."

"There's a difference between chivalry and decency." Arthur rolled his eyes, then eased his horse to a slow trot down the road.

"Wonderful pearls of wisdom from a man who lived in a bubble all his life."

"This is something Cedric would do, is that what you want to turn into?"

"The only thing my brother and I have in common is the blood that runs through our veins. And when an employee of mine decides to shirk his duties, for whatever reason it may be, he must still be punished." It wasn't long before they made it out the city gates and entered the main road that led inland.

Merlin looked over at his savior and whispered a heartfelt thank you. Tristan gave him a light smile.

"Gwaine," Arthur said turning to the other man in their party.

"Huh?"

"Help them."

"What? Why?"

"You want to get through all this sooner, help them."

"Just let Tristan's horse carry it."

"Then that would completely negate the idea of punishing Merlin."

The man, Gwaine, narrowed his eyes at the prince. "I know why you're doing this."

Arthur returned his attention to the road and chuckled. "This should be good."

"You're just doing this to wear us out so you end up having all the energy to win."

"But we all heard the young lord down there, it's the _decent_ thing to do. Help them, that's an order."

Gwaine cursed loudly before jumping off the horse and yanking two of the bags from Merlin's hands, leaving him to carry just the prince's insanely heavy breastplate.

"You better hope you're not near me when I see that cat Tristan," Gwaine said to the other lord with a contemptuous scowl.

Tristan seemed to ignore him. He faced Merlin, then extended a free hand. "Merlin is it?"

"Yes sire."

"Tristan. You can speak with me. I'm no royal."

"Yes he is, his uncle is one of Uther's cousins," Gwaine said.

"My point is, I never want others to view me as some rich fool."

"So Scrawny," Gwaine said to Merlin while scratching his beard. "Where are you from?"

"The Lower Isles."

"From my land eh?"

"You're from the Lower Isles?" The colors of his clothing and crest made it clear he was, but Merlin still wanted to make sure.

"Aye. My pop is the lord, although he'd never admit as such. Too much of a people's hero to admit he lives in luxury." His father was Lord Lot? For some reason, the thought was comforting. Lord Lot may have been a nobleman but he was respected by his people. Merlin and Ealdor included.

"Better he be humble than the other way around," Tristan added.

"So I guess this makes you one of my citizens then," Gwaine said with a proud smile.

"No, he's mine now," Arthur said loudly, his eyes still on the road. Merlin felt his heart beating to a familiar tempo.

Tristan looked up at him. "Everything always is, isn't it?"

That drew a chuckle from Gwaine but Arthur remained expressionless.

"He's _my_ servant and as a citizen of Camelot, he is also _my_ citizen," Arthur said like a petulant child. Gwaine put a hand on his shoulder.

"He's always been possessive."

Then he started laughing to himself again. "Let me tell you a little story."

"Not this again," Arthur said with a groan.

"One time, when we were just wee lads, Tristan here found a stray puppy wandering around the city. He took it in, fed it, and groomed it so he could give it to his majesty here as a present."

"Enough Gwaine," Arthur said with a low voice.

"But the minute Arthur saw the thing, he demanded that Tristan hand it over, by royal decree of the crown prince. He started giving all the reasons why it was his property, that it was born in the city and as such, was his by will of the divine." Merlin smiled, it wasn't too much of a stretch to see a young Arthur doing that.

"Why must you always bring that up?" Arthur asked with a bitter sigh.

"You made him cry," Gwaine said.

"I did not cry—" Tristan tried to say but Arthur cut him off.

"If he wasn't so sensitive to everything…"

Gwaine leaned in and whispered into Merlin's ear. "Watch this, they're almost like an old couple when they argue."

"I was there to give you a present and you treated me like a thief. How do you expect a five-year-old to respond to that?"

"It is not my fault that your father coddled you. The only reason you were even out that day was because Gwaine offered to babysit you."

"I'd rather be a coddled weakling than a spoiled—" Gwaine, obviously noticing the thick tension that descended over them, clasped a hand over Tristan's mouth.

"Why don't we just calm down a bit, eh fellas?"

Tristan yanked off Gwaine's hand. "Prissy, egotistical prat!"

Merlin's heart slowed when the prince stopped his horse. Gwaine looked worried, but Tristan still had a look of defiance on him.

"Love you too Tristan," Arthur replied with startling nonchalance. It even seemed to catch Tristan off guard. Soon they were moving again.

Gwaine rubbed his neck, relieved that nothing bad happened. "Five minutes in and we already got a fight. Just like old times."

"Was the dog's name Dumdum?" Merlin asked Tristan in a whisper.

"Yeah, how do you—"

"Merlin, I command you to keep your mouth shut or I will do to you what I did to that dog whenever I pet his head." Merlin closed his mouth immediately.

Around an hour passed, most of it occupied by Gwaine's bawdy tales about his life at sea. Tristan was a quiet but brilliant soldier that Arthur seemed to favor greatly. Both of them may have been lords, but they were so friendly to Merlin that he couldn't care less about the class difference. They even seemed to bring about a softer side to the prince, who was soon laughing along with the rest of them.

"Can anyone win this tournament?" Merlin asked at one point.

"If you can hunt, you can win," Tristan said.

"Problem is, most people that join overestimate their abilities and end up getting killed," Gwaine said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. Well, Merlin knew enough of Lancelot's skill with a blade and Morgana's with her bow to not doubt their chances. But still, Gwaine's words sent shivers down his spine.

"Why do you ask?" Arthur said.

Merlin shook his head. "Nothing."

The village they were headed to was Avalon, one of the few settlements near Brocéliande, the enormous hunting grounds that hosted the tournament. According to Arthur, it was usually filled with nomads and vagrants, he even made a point for Merlin to keep on guard at all times. By the time they reached the city gates, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. Merlin's legs were trembling, his clothes soaked with sweat, and no doubt blisters would form in unsavory areas by morning. Gwaine and Tristan fared better, but their healthier physiques warranted that.

It was an expansive but nondescript town, its many buildings scattered about with little care for symmetry. Most of them were cottages no bigger than the ones back in Ealdor. There weren't any streets, just dirt and soil that had been worn down by footfalls of countless travelers. The atmosphere around here was frantic, with dozens of men milling about the streets, still clad in their weapons and gear.

Once they entered what seemed to be the city square, Arthur jumped off his horse and took his things from Merlin's hands.

"Tristan, go deal with the horses, I'll go get us rooms at the inn." Arthur turned to Gwaine, "See what you can do about food for the evening. Take Merlin with you."

"Of course sire." Arthur's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He strode through a crowd of boisterous young men and headed further inside town. Merlin flinched when a strong hand wrapped around his shoulder.

"So Scrawny, onto the pub."

"But he said—"

"The pub has food...and the best rum this side of Camelot. Come on, we'll be out before you know it." Merlin could see in Gwaine's eyes that he would go whether Merlin agreed to or not. So that left him with two choices, wait for Arthur and get scolded at, or wait in the pub for Arthur and get scolded at with a pint of alcohol in his hand. With a reluctant sigh, Merlin chose the latter and nodded his head. Gwaine let out an excited cheer and led the way towards the pub.

It was one of the few stone structures in town and the worn sign dangling above the front door bore the name Excalibur. The stench of sweat and whiskey struck him like a hammer when the door opened. Stepping inside was even worse, his nose which had already been strained during the walk here felt like it was drowning in odors.

"I'll get us some drinks. Feel free to wander about." Gwaine rushed off into the heart of the room, where the bartender was serving drinks.

"Merlin?" A voice called out to him. Merlin spun around, surprised to see Lancelot staring back at him. He was seated at a table with Morgana in the corner of the room. Merlin looked over at Gwaine who was apparently arguing with a few men. That seemed like permission enough, so Merlin carved a path through the throngs of patrons to greet them.

"What are you doing here?" Lancelot asked pulling a seat aside for him. The moment Merlin sat, he felt his legs give out. Morgana gave him a smile and handed him a mug of amber liquid.

"Long—"

"Story," Morgana and Lancelot finished.

"It's Arthur's punishment for me. I had to carry his things here, on foot." Morgana started giggling to herself, loud enough to bait Merlin into asking why.

"I fail to see what's so funny about all this."

"I noticed it when you talked to me yesterday, you keep referring to him by his name. Weren't we taught in school to call the royal family—"

"He made me do it."

"First you punch him and then he hires you for no reason. Now you call him his name on a casual basis. Our prince seems mighty fond of you." Images of the prince's nude body popped up in his head and Merlin paled. He took a large gulp of the ale to drown out the thought. Both Lancelot and Morgana were staring at him, apparently gauging his reaction.

"Look what Shadow found!" A voice suddenly shouted from nowhere, catching their attention. Thank the gods, Merlin thought to himself.

It was only until he repeated the voice in his head that he realized who it belonged to. "You brought Gad?"

Gad ran over, holding some kind of necklace in his hand.

"He snuck inside some guy's wheelbarrow, we didn't know until we got here an hour ago." Lancelot explained before pulling Gad up on his lap.

"I take it Gaius doesn't know about this?" Merlin asked with a raised brow. Morgana didn't answer, Lancelot just shook his head.

"I can help," Gad insisted.

"How? You gonna make that little bird of yours tweet the beasts to death?" Morgana asked.

Merlin turned to Gad and gave him a stern scowl. "You better not be going with them."

"They said I had to stay here."

"I do not want to go home and tell mother how you ended up in the tummy of a monster," Morgana said ruffling his hair.

"It's a cat," Merlin said, "the thing that you're all hunting. They call it a man killer."

"A cat? Like, meow cat?" Lancelot asked with far too serious a tone.

"_Man killer_," Merlin repeated.

He spent a good ten minutes explaining everything he learned on the walk here. For a moment, and he didn't know whether to feel proud or fearful, both Morgana and Lancelot looked nervous. They talked for an inordinate amount of time, but it managed to take away the exhaustion in Merlin's body. Morgana talked about how she found a job at a tailor's back in the city, Lancelot didn't seemed to want to stop talking about his time with Guinevere, while Gad just looked content to be around the grown-ups. For just a minuscule moment, everything was okay. Then Merlin saw Arthur walking towards him with a glare that could shatter glass.

"Where have you been? Just because we're not in the castle or city doesn't mean you can shrug off your duties."

"I was just getting a drink, Gwaine said—"

"Is Gwaine your master?" _Master_? Merlin was tempted to fire a verbal salvo back at Arthur but considering there were about a hundred witnesses in this room, he held back.

Merlin gritted his teeth together. "No."

"Did you ask my permission to do so?" Arthur said in an even more condescending manner.

"If I had asked, would you have said yes?" Merlin fired back.

"No, but then I wouldn't have had to spend the last twenty sodding minutes searching for you!" To Merlin's disbelief, Arthur grabbed him by the ear and tugged him towards the exit, completely disregarding the stares of everyone inside. Once they were outside, Arthur latched onto his arm instead and used that propel them forward.

"What are you doing?" Merlin asked in terror.

"I asked so many simple requests of you during the last two days and you've disregarded almost each one of them. Then my idiotic friend says one thing and you think you get a free pass." Merlin blinked several times. That sounded almost like a jealous remark. Then again, he was a prince. He probably never had to deal with fighting over something. _Wait a sec, I'm the something_?

"My legs are on the brink of collapse, frankly, Gwaine's offer of a drink sounded pretty good." They reached what was presumably the inn, and Arthur shoved the door open, still dragging Merlin along with him.

"Your highness—" a female greeter tried to say but Arthur ignored her. Soon they were barreling down an empty hallway. Merlin was beyond perplexed.

"Was that your friend? From the fight?"

"Yes." Arthur opened the door to a room and motioned Merlin to go in.

"How exactly did he find out about this tournament?"

"Your blacksmith told him, he's her new apprentice."

"I'm your master. Not Gwaine. Just because he tells you to do something doesn't—"

"I heard you the first time."

Arthur scowled at him. "Do you really hate this situation of yours that much?"

"Put yourself in my shoes. I come to Camelot, expecting a new life and instead I get to be a servant. And yes, I know that it's my fault that I even got into that position, but that still doesn't mean I'll accept it willingly. And further more, I'm not some piece of property. You are my prince and at best my employer, but that in no way makes me yours." Merlin regretted saying that the moment it left his lips. Arthur didn't have an immediate reaction, he just snorted, then took a seat on the edge of his bed.

"You finished?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm doing anymore." Silence fell over them, and it didn't feel one bit helpful. But Arthur eventually stood up and cracked his knuckles.

"You get the day off tomorrow." Not Merlin was sure the prince had gone off the deep end.

"Huh?"

"Tristan, Gwaine, and I will hunt. You can stay here in Avalon and do what you want to until we get back." Arthur picked up a spare pillow that was on a nearby table, then handed them to Merlin.

"You're sleeping here for the night, on the floor. Normally the servants sleep outside but being the considerate guy that I am, I decided to give you a break." Merlin was more confused than ever.

"But I'm going to take a bath first so I'd appreciate it if you left the room for a few minutes." Before Merlin knew it, he was being shoved out of the room. To his surprise, Lancelot was already waiting right there for him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I followed him, to check on you." Merlin put his back against the wall, then closed his eyes. Why was this day so damn strange?

"How are you?" Lancelot asked.

"Tired. Confused. Potentially suicidal."

"He seemed friendly when talking to us."

"I talked with a woman, who's been working in the castle for fifty years. She's been stuck there for three different kings. I can't do that Lancelot. We came here to do new things. Now I'm trapped with a guy who's nice one minute and crazy the next, and he happens to be the goddamn prince."

"Maybe if we win, I can buy you back from him."

Merlin's lips curled to a smile. "Then I'd be your property?"

"You'd be free."

Merlin bit his lower lip, knowing that it wouldn't be that easy. "I doubt Arthur would be willing. From what I learned, when something is his, he doesn't give it up."

"We'll figure it out, and I promise it won't take fifty years to do so. Just get some rest okay?" He surprised Lancelot by pulling him into an awkward yet comforting embrace. He could feel the tears coming but he held them back.

"I'll get you out of this, I swear," Lancelot said with a soothing tone. Merlin pulled away when an onlooker walked past them.

"Yeah. Go sleep, you'll need it if you're going to win." He bid Lancelot good night, then slumped against the wall and slid down. Within a minute, his eyes were closed and the first essences of a dream drifted past him.

"Great," a distant voice said. Merlin was jolted awake when something snaked around his torso lifting him to his feet. It was Arthur and he was...shirtless. They both stumbled inside, Merlin's joints aching all the way, before Arthur set him down on the edge of the bed.

"Are you okay?" Arthur with crossed arms.

"Just tired." With a sigh, Arthur reached down and picked up the spare pillow on the floor. He set it next to Merlin.

"This is a large bed, just keep to your side."

"What?"

"You can sleep on the floor if you want, your choice." Arthur shuffled past him and slid underneath the sheets on the right side of the bed. The scent of sandalwood clung to the air.

"Thank you," Merlin said. He took the pillow and placed it as close to the edge of the mattress as possible. He also made sure to stay on top of the sheets.

"I'm a very restless sleeper, you will fall once I move the blanket."

Merlin propped himself on his elbow and turned to Arthur. "Well, what do you want me to do? Sleep right next to you?"

"Oh yes, I just have so much trouble sleeping at night without someone warm to snuggle next to. Just get under the sheets you dolt." Merlin pulled back the corner of the blanket and slipped right under it. He was close enough to Arthur that he could actually feel the rise and fall of his breaths.

"Now go to sleep. We have a very busy day tomorrow." Arthur blew out the candlelight on a nearby stand, the only luminescence in the room was from the moon just outside the window. Merlin shut his eyes, praying for some of his sleepiness to return, but it didn't. All he could think about was the fact that he was lying in bed with the prince. It didn't take long for him to hear snoring, it was actually cute enough that it made Merlin laugh.

He shook his head, than looked up at the ceiling with a smile that was both out of disbelief and boredom.

"Good night Arthur."


End file.
